


The Dotted Line

by freckledandspectacled



Series: Nygmobblepot Week 2018 [4]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Presents, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, M/M, Surprises, group hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-27 01:09:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14414388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freckledandspectacled/pseuds/freckledandspectacled
Summary: Written for Day 4 of Nygmobblepot Week:Martin





	The Dotted Line

**Author's Note:**

> So I forgot to put this on AO3 for nygmobblepot week. Hey, i might be an idiot—

Martin trusted Oswald intrinsically. His father had never let him down, had given him everything and more. He trusted Oswald to know what Edward would like, that this was a good idea. Oswald had formally adopted him through… more nefarious measures than a typical parent probably had to go through, but he was still his father in the eyes of the law.

Edward was another story. The three of them had been living together for five years now. Oswald had officially been Martin’s father for four of those years, and Edward’s husband for three. However, despite being Martin’s step-father, Edward had no legal ties to him. Whenever Martin brought paperwork home, it was always Oswald’s signature on his permission slips, or on his blue slips for misbehavior. Martin’s private school was extremely strict, and every year Oswald and Edward would have to go down together to list Edward as his parent. His first year there, he’d felt ill and wanted to go home. Edward had dutifully arrived inside of ten minutes to get him but had been barred from taking Martin home because he was not his parent and had not been given explicit permission by the parent to be allowed to do so. A call from Oswald had not even been enough. He’d had to leave city hall and present a form of identification, and all the while Martin had been locked away in the nurse’s office and miserable. Thankfully, the pair had kept it together and not caused a scene, but if anything had been worth a scene, it was that.

While the difference between adoptive father and step-father was negligible in their household, the outside world seemed to take exception to it. His school only ever called Oswald’s phone, his teachers ignored Edward at conferences unless he was asking a question, and once a year Edward made the trip to the office with Oswald, just so he was allowed to pick Martin up at the end of the day or in case of emergency.

As far as Martin was concerned, Edward was his dad. It irritated him immensely that his school preferred to ignore that, and he could tell that it upset Edward as well. He always returned from conferences silent and pensive, cooking dinner but not singing, sitting at the table but not present. Being called Martin’s step-dad by his teachers could put him in a bad mood for the rest of the evening.

Martin had planned this with Oswald months in advance of Edward’s birthday. He just hoped it would mean as much to Edward as it did to him, that he’d understand that Martin might be young, but he was perceptive. Edward’s unhappiness had not gone unnoticed by him, nor Oswald. Martin wanted nothing more than to show Edward how important he was to him, the way Edward showed him every day. Martin was not one for words, so he had settled on an appropriate gesture. 

Everything was going to be perfect. Oswald had purchased a rich chocolate cake from the best bakery in Gotham City, Martin had carefully wrapped every layer of Edward’s present, and there were tissues on the table in case things got weepy.

The front door opened. Edward was home. Oswald had put his cake in the fridge to keep it a surprise until later, but on the table was Martin’s present to him, and Oswald’s. Edward meandered in the hall for a bit, likely removing his raincoat and stowing his umbrella.

“I’m home,” Edward called, peeking around the corner and spotting them. He smiled, approaching Oswald and leaning down to kiss him.

“How’d it go?” Oswald asked, walking with him to the table.

“Splendid. I’m sure the Bat will be running around Gotham like a chicken with its head cut off. He’ll certainly feel the April Fool when he realizes there is no threat to the city,” Edward chuckled.

“How fortunate that the Joker is in Arkham, and you’ve had the chance to wreak a little havoc on your birthday for once,” Oswald said, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

“Indeed,” Edward said, winking at him. He took a seat next to Martin and ruffled his hair. “Hey, kiddo.”

‘Happy birthday,’ he signed. ‘I got you a present.’ Edward pointed at the smaller gift on the table.

‘No, the big one.’ His eyes widened.

“Now I’m curious,” Edward said, standing and tugging it closer. He wrapped both arms around it and lifted it, giving it a shake.

“Edward,” Oswald scolded, “That’s cheating.”

“It’s not,” he huffed, reluctantly placing it back on the table. “Can I open it?”

‘Yes,’ Martin signed, ‘I can’t wait for you to see it.’ Edward smiled and started to unwrap it, finding a plain, cardboard box. Martin tapped his shoulder and handed him a pair of scissors.

“Thank you,” Edward said, cutting the tape on the box and opening it to reveal—

Another box.

“Oh, you didn’t,” Edward said, raising his eyebrows at Martin. He smirked deviously in response.

“Oswald, did you help him with this?” Oswald shook his head.

“Only with the gift at the end, my dear.” Edward rolled his eyes and took the next box out, throwing the outer one aside.

“How many are there?” Edward asked Martin, tearing off more wrapping paper. Martin shrugged.

‘I guess you’ll have to find out.’

Five boxes later until Edward informed him, “Martin, you are killing your father. Do you understand? You’re killing me. On my birthday.”

‘It’ll be worth it,’ Martin signed. Five more boxes, and Oswald removed his phone and started recording the process.

“Are you filming me?” Edward said, directing a rakish smile at his husband.

“I want to record this for posterity,” Oswald said. Edward rolled his eyes and tore more wrapping paper.

“How long did this take you?” he asked, pulling open the final box.

‘Long enough,’ Martin signed, his anxiety growing at the sight of the last box, wrapped in newspaper and covered in green question marks. Edward opened it, revealing a plain manilla envelope.

“You may want to sit down,” Oswald advised him. Edward shot him a curious glance but obeyed. He pinched the plain metal tabs and flipped up the flap. Edward laid it down on the table and slid the paper from within, brows pinched together as he carefully centered it on the table in front of him and skimmed the page.

In an instant, his demeanor changed. Edward gasped, a hand flying up to cover his mouth. He looked to Oswald first, who nodded once, slightly. Edward moved his hand away.

“Martin?” he asked, eyes wide and fixed on the boy they considered their own son.

‘I want you to adopt me,’ Martin signed. Edward folded himself over the table and pressed his fingers into his eyes, sliding them beneath his glasses. He shuddered, and it took Martin a moment to realize that he was crying. Martin stood, wrapping his arms around Edward and laying his cheek on his shoulder. Edward was making soft sniffling noises and breathing harshly. Oswald put down the camera and stood, coming over to the pair of them and enveloping both in an embrace.

“My boys,” he said fondly, running his hand over Edward’s back to soothe him. It seemed to have the opposite effect. Edward cried, a low whining murmur, and buried his face into Oswald’s chest. He moved his hands from his eyes and wrapped one arm around Oswald’s waist and the other around Martin, hiding his expression from the boy.

“Thank you,” Edward said, voice strained with emotion. Oswald ran his fingers over the nape of Edward’s neck, careful circles and rubbing motions. Martin squeezed him tighter and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He let go, tapping Edward’s shoulder to get his attention. Edward had no choice but to look at him in order to understand what he was saying. He peeled himself away from Oswald’s chest, laying the side of his face against him instead. He sniffed and quickly wiped his fingers under both eyes. “Yes?”

‘I love you.’ Edward smiled, cheeks still blotchy and red from crying. He stood and pulled Martin into a proper hug, resting his chin on top of the boy’s head and then pressing a kiss into his brown curls.

“I love you too,” Edward said, glancing up at Oswald. “I love you both so much.”

“Are you going to sign it anytime soon?” Oswald asked, “Or were you just planning on crying on it?”

“Oh, quiet you,” Edward muttered to Oswald under his breath. Directing his attention to Martin, he asked him, “Do you have a pen?” Martin dutifully produced one for him, ready for the inquiry.

“Thank you,” Edward said, accepting the proffered pen. 

‘Sign here,’ Martin told him, pointing to a line at the bottom of the certificate. Edward bent over the table and brought the pen close, then hesitated.

“What about the home study?” Edward asked, turning to Oswald.

“You mean paying off underpaid social workers to rate our beautiful home as suitable for a child?” Oswald asked, cocking a brow. “Child’s play.”

“And the criminal history check?” Edward asked, laying the pen on the table.

“I think you’ll recall how I facilitated that when I adopted him,” Oswald said. Edward nodded to himself, tapping a finger against his chin.

“Okay, but what about—”

“Darling, you’re making Martin nervous.” Oswald covered the boy’s ears, despite the fact that he was fifteen. Martin rolled his eyes. He’s always been able to hear Oswald cursing anyways. “Sign the damn certificate.” Edward swallowed and nodded, hand trembling slightly as he reclaimed the pen and signed his name on the dotted line. Oswald removed his hands from Martin’s ears.

“And the judge has already ruled—”

“A judge has already been paid off, love. Martin’s new birth certificate should be in soon, but it took a bit longer than expected to have everything finalized. Money only greases the wheels of the legal system so much,” Oswald complained, laying a hand on Martin’s shoulder.

“So… that’s it?” Edward asked, looking between them both.

‘That’s it,’ Martin signed. ‘You’re my dad now.’ Tears welled in Edward’s eyes again as he straightened up, hugging Martin fiercely and pulling Oswald in as well. Martin was up to Edward’s chin now, and only slightly shorter than Oswald. He was still hoping to surpass both of his fathers in height, of course.

“We should celebrate,” Oswald said. “Who wants cake?” Martin and Edward both perked up at that, two sets of widened eyes fixating on him at the mention of dessert. Oswald smiled.

It was times like these he could see the resemblance.

**Author's Note:**

> —that’s it i just might be an idiot. but you should still validate me even though i forgot to post this here!!! comments are highly appreciated and turn into fics.


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